When Jeff blinked awake at 5:30 in the morning, he took it as a sign. Quietly, he rolled out of bed, got dressed, and fled.
He drove aimlessly for the better part of an hour. At first, he sat in silence, until his anxiety and guilt overwhelmed him—because Christ, he'd probably been overstepping by letting Annie coax him into her room in the first place, but it was absolutely unfair of him to let his feelings get the better of him after they'd finally reached a comfortable equilibrium with their relationship.
Tired of hearing his own thoughts, Jeff turned on the radio, but that didn't really help much. Annie had set it to NPR a few days before to hear a show she liked, and all he could hear in it now was her marveling at the fact that he'd let her… because it wasn't like Jeff to try to stay informed.
She'd teased him for becoming too much of a professor. It had made him ache.
On the brink of being overwhelmed by that ache, and perhaps more than a little desperate for a rare jolt of caffeine when he'd only slept for a few hours, Jeff pulled into a parking spot outside of the first coffee shop he spotted.
There was a quiet hum of chatter among the patrons; it was still too early for the morning rush, but a few early bird runners and businessmen were scattered around the shop. That sight, too, left Jeff feeling strange, because once upon a time, he'd lived that life. Waking up at 5am for an early morning work-out, stopping by his local health nut coffee shop for an energizing smoothie and a bagel with low-fat cream cheese before getting to the law firm by 7:30. He'd had to, if he wanted to compete with the asshole coworkers he'd called his friends.
But now, he got to the front of the line and thought nothing of calories as he ordered a coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and an entire side of hash browns.
Jeff sat down at a table for two in the back of the shop to wait for his order, and his mind raced.
He'd allowed these feelings to fester for years, but after they got trapped in Borchert's lab, Jeff had sworn to himself that he would get over Annie once and for all. Maybe that was about his fear of intimacy (at least, that was what he imagined Britta saying when he rehearsed one of a thousand vulnerable conversations with his friends that he never allowed himself to have). But it was about other things, too. It was about how Jeff looked at Annie and allowed himself to feel the full extent of his love for her but knew, at the same time, that he was saving her specifically so that she could finish her time at Greendale and then leave.
Because she deserved better than him, and his best way of showing that he loved her was to watch her flourish without him.
So he'd reassured Abed and Britta that staying in Annie's room wouldn't be a mistake.
He'd insisted that he was strong enough to maintain that platonic boundary between them.
And Annie… Well. Her courteous response, her patience with him (her patience with the kiss, the past few weeks, the past few years), was more proof that she was kinder and better than he could ever deserve.
"Is that you, Jeffrey?"
Jeff's heart sank. This was quickly becoming the worst 12 hours in Jeff's entire life.
"Would you believe me if I said no?" he asked, even as he made eye contact with Craig Pelton.
"Oh, very funny." Craig chuckled light-heartedly as he reached Jeff's table. He held an order number in one hand, and Jeff knew exactly where this was going already, even as Craig nonchalantly leaned on the free chair across from Jeff and mused, "I'd say, 'Do you come here often,' but this is my daily breakfast spot and I've never seen you here before."
"Needed a change of scenery," Jeff replied in a monotone.
Craig tilted his head in concern. "Aren't you still staying with the rest of the OG study group? You're not in a fight, are you?"
"The OG study group?" Jeff echoed. "No, no, we're not… in a fight. How did you know I was staying with them?"
"Oh, you know. To quote the cinema classic Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement, 'the maids know everything.' The library janitor mentioned it during one of our weekly debriefings about student gossip." And there it was—he sat down across from Jeff, leaning his elbow on the table as he lowered his voice in concern and continued, "But I can't really see why you'd be out and about and eating carbs right now if everything in apartment 303 was going fine."
Jeff stared at the Dean blankly. He could feel himself on the brink of pulling out his standard "biting sarcasm" response, but he also felt fatigued and, frankly, more than a little desperate for an excuse to not have to sit with his own thoughts.
"The library janitor debriefs with you on student gossip?"
Maybe it wasn't revelatory, but it was the sort of earnest response that Craig rarely received from Jeff, which seemed to be more than he was expecting. His eyes widened just slightly and he held up his hand to reassure Jeff, "And you, of course. I've told Lou that as far as the Save Greendale Committee is concerned, the faculty and staff are honorary students."
"I feel like I should tell you that you shouldn't think of the professors as students, but that also might be giving me too much credit for how much I got out of Greendale in the first place."
"Please, Jeffrey. Anyone with eyes could tell you that Greendale's left its mark on you."
Here, too, Jeff might have fired back with sarcasm, but again… he was too tired. Not just from one poor night's sleep, but rather from an existential exhaustion from embodying that attitude at all hours of every day.
So instead: "Are you going to elaborate?"
The Dean raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure you remember how you reacted the first time I ran into you in public. You're a different Jeff Winger."
Well.
He wasn't wrong.
Jeff swallowed and shrugged. "You're probably right."
For a few seconds, Craig squinted at Jeff before rising to his feet. "I hope you and your friends figure everything out. I'm not ready to pick new favorites yet if your group falls apart."
That would have been it. It could have been, the Dean clearly ready to leave and find his own seat far away from Jeff. But then Jeff blurted, "You can sit here for a bit longer, if you want."
And it wasn't even because he wanted to quiet his own thoughts—not really.
When Jeff strolled into the study room precisely on the hour for the committee meeting, he had run into Abed and Britta in the hallway, but he hadn't even spotted Annie all day. For all he knew, she was avoiding him as much as he was avoiding her.
If so, though, no one would have gotten that impression when she caught sight of him. She was caught up in a back-and-forth with Chang about a controversy over possible food poisoning in the cafeteria, but when Jeff and Frankie entered one after the other, Annie gave him a small smile and wave.
"Glad you could join us, Jeff." Britta said.
He sighed as he dropped into his seat. "Frankie and I literally got here at the same time."
"Sure, but I can trust that she's late because of something important."
"Like the faculty/staff meeting we both had to attend?" Jeff raised his eyebrows at Britta, and he did feel some modicum of amusement as she looked between Jeff and Frankie. Frankie nodded her confirmation. "It's true. Jeff would have even been here sooner, but I had to talk to the Dean, so I asked Jeff to wait."
"Haven't we already done the, 'Britta realizes Jeff is a mature adult,' plot point this week?" Abed asked the table.
"That was last week, Abed," Jeff fired back without missing a beat. "And I don't really appreciate you reducing my life to plot points."
"Stop reproducing common narrative beats, then." Abed looked to Frankie and added, "Can we get started? The new season of Inspector Spacetime is premiering on BBC America tonight and I don't want to miss it."
But while the rest of the committee began to discuss Frankie's updates on the flu shot initiative, Jeff sat preoccupied by Abed's words—not the plot point bull shit, exactly, but by the idea of his actions and choices and the choices of those around him reflecting on him as a person.
Including that fucking kiss. Including how both of them responded.
"You alright, Jeff?"
He met Frankie's gaze, abruptly realizing that she — along with the rest of the table — was staring at him. "Hmm?"
"You just look a little preoccupied. Are you doing okay?"
Jeff nodded hesitantly. His gaze flickered toward Annie as he said, "Yeah, I'm alright."
There was no anger, no anxiety or resentment in Annie's expression; just concern. Gentle, compassionate concern.
Frankie and Annie agreed that the meeting was finished, and Jeff was on his feet at once. "Abed, ready to catch Inspector Timespace?"
"I know you know what it's called, Jeff," Abed retorted, even as he rose out of his chair as well. He tucked his notebook and pen into his backpack as he said, "And yes, I am."
"Great." Looking between Britta and Annie, Jeff asked, "Either of you want a ride home?"
Britta shook her head and mumbled something about plans — which, if Jeff knew her (which he did), meant that she was seeing either her secret therapist or her secret weed dealer — but Annie smiled and nodded. "Yes, please."
They bid their farewells, and then they were out the door, in the lot, on the way home.
Jeff asked Abed about what he was looking forward to in the new season of Inspector Spacetime, mostly to ensure that Jeff didn't have to search for conversation in this car with his friend and the women he was in love with.
But if he found Abed's easy joy infectious, he couldn't help it.
They were stopped at a light two blocks from the apartment when Jeff blurted, "Shit." He ran a hand over his hair. "I need to go to the pharmacy."
"I need to get home, though," Abed said. He leaned forward between Jeff and Annie's shoulders and squinted at Jeff. "You're not going to make me miss the show, are you?"
"No, no, we're almost at the apartment anyway, I'll just drop you off."
Parked outside of the building, Abed raced out of the car at once, but Annie hesitated even from unbuckling her seatbelt.
"Can I come with you?" she asked softly.
Jeff remembered her face in the committee meeting. He remembered her face after he told her that he wanted to take back the kiss.
"Yeah, of course you can."
And then he pulled out of his parking spot, and they were driving again.
Jeff spoke first, because she sure as hell deserved that much. "Sorry I left this morning. You deserved more of a conversation than we had last night, but I woke up super early and I just couldn't stand the idea of sitting with myself in the apartment. I haven't had much fun in my own head today as it is."
"I wasn't exactly happy that you were gone," Annie told him honestly. "But I saw that you hadn't taken your stuff, so I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt and imagine that you needed the day to talk yourself into talking about your feelings."
He laughed self-consciously. "That's… the gist of it, I guess."
Annie examined his profile for a few moments, assessing this reply, before twisting in surprise when Jeff pulled to a stop in the parking lot of a CVS. "Wait, were you serious about the prescription?"
"Yeah, I was supposed to pick it up during lunch, but I've been a little preoccupied today."
Her cheeks tinted pink, but she didn't respond. Instead, she said, "So. You kissed me."
"I did."
"I kind of expected you to deny it."
Jeff swallowed and ran his hand over the steering wheel uncomfortably. "I don't… I'm not going to deny that. We woke up in the middle of the night and we chatted and I kissed you. But I think that's all it should be."
"I feel like I should point out that it sounds like you're parsing your words pretty carefully," Annie said.
"Maybe a little bit."
"Is that for my sake or yours?"
"Shit, Annie." Jeff exhaled loudly. "Both, probably."
"Can I ask you something, then? No parsing."
He felt his heart pounding in his throat as he told her, "Yeah, I guess so."
Annie traced her fingers along the hem of her skirt, pointedly looking away from him. He had no idea if this was for his benefit or hers. Maybe both. "I know that things have been back and forth with us for years, so this might not even be an easy question to answer. But do you still have feelings for me? Honestly."
Well, damn.
Jeff probably should have anticipated that question.
He leaned back against the headrest and blinked up at the ceiling of the car for a few moments before looking over to Annie. Her gaze was still focused on her lap. "Sure I do, Annie. But kissing you… that was me being a selfish idiot. Whatever I feel doesn't matter if it might end up holding you back."
She looked up at that, meeting Jeff's gaze. Her brow was furrowed. "Hold me back from what?"
"From a million things. From ruling the world some day. We all know Greendale's just been a pit stop."
"Greendale doesn't have to just be a pit stop, Jeff," she told him softly.
He couldn't tell whether she was trying to reassure him about their relationship or reassure him about his own path. And he smiled sadly, because sure, it didn't have to just be a pit stop. But he told her, "It's not for some of us, but it is for you."
These words hung between them for several moments as Annie appraised him.
"I still want you to stay in my room while you're staying with us," she said at last. "I'm kind of getting used to it."